WitchCraft
by DragKing13
Summary: The air was cold and dark. The only light came from the moon and the wineglasses half full of gasoline and flamzes.


The air was cold and dark. The only light came from the moon and the wineglasses half full of gasoline and flamses.

It was to in the morning as her eyes darted between everything. Everything must be perfect. One mistake and it would be the end of her.

She checked for the fith time. The pentical on the oak wood flooring was exact. No mess ups or unstraight lines dispite the hurryed pace it was drawn. The four cup sitting on four of the tips of the pentical, each half filled with gasoline and fire, represented the elements. Earth, wind, fire, and air. She sat at the fifth point on her knees.

"Hurry...or it shall be too late!" the spirt spoke. The host had never once seen the aperation, yet she knew he had been there her entire life.

"I shall try my very best, Spirit." she made what looked very similar to an up-side-down question mark in the center of the pentigram.

"Remember, my host, we must speak clearly for if this is to work we must speak with confidence and power. It shant matter whether we have everything in proper order or dost. We must be clear and confident." he whispered to his host. His hands wrapped around her shoulders and his hot breath on her ear.

She had often wondered hown he was able to speak with no mouth to talk or touch her with no body to touch with. Yet she never voiced to thoughts. She knew better than to ever oice such inimportant quiestions. The host was just a witch, a servent of the spirit. He was her lord.

"My Lord, all is ready." she whispered and felt his hands disapper from her shoulders.

"My Lord?" she asked after a few moments of not hearing his usual praise when she had done as he had asked correctly.

"Yes, my young witch. You have done well, but now we shall test how well you have done by the Gods standards." his voice seemed to be moving away from her then stopped at what seemed like the center of the pentical.

"Yes, My Lord. As you wish." the witch closed her eye sliding the steel knife acrost the center of her palm. The blood welled up under the blade and threatened to spill. Tillting her hand, three drops of blood fell onto the point she was once sitting on.

The moment the drops touched the chalk the pentigram light up in a vibrant blue color, lighting up the entire room.

"My Lord?" she called out timidly. The young witch had never tried any kind of spell such as this in all her twenty years of life.

"Tis alright witch. This means your blood is pure and is able to be accepted." the voice of her lord soothed her, "Now speak the chant!"

"Yes, My Lord." she took a deep breath to calm herself.

She began the chant clear and cofident as the aperation had been taching her to do. The pentigram began to change color from the light blue to a dark crimson red as the air around her began to crackle and spark.

"Do not stop! Keep chanting!" the spirit barked at his host. She has almost stopped her chanting when the crackling changed to bloths of lightning cracking from the lines of the pentigram and had almost zapped her. "The lightning never hits the caster!"

"Yes, My Lord." she though as she continued to chant.

As she spoke the last word an ememse flash of white covered her feild of vision and the witch crumpled to the ground.

The spirit looked around then looked down to his semi-solid form. The spell had worked...to an extent.

The spirit turned towards his host. She was laying on the ground in an unnatural position. Her blood was quickly pooling around her.

"My...Lord...?" she whispered trying to tilt her head to her master.

"My young witch. I have lied to you, yet I had too. For you see, if I would have told you the truth you would not have helped me. For you help I am greatful. But for your death I do not greive. If it had not of been you it would have been another." the spirit said moving her head so she could see what she had waisted her life to obtain.

His hair flowed down his back in white waes. His eyes shone a blood red, and his smile showed his longer than average canines.

"Good-bye my sweet, Kisara. Parting is such sweet sarrow." he alughed as he dissapered.

Kisara breathed her last breath.

X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

so...I wrote this a long just today during my twenty three minute classes.  
Last day of school! Im officaly a junior...I think...I might have gotten held back...IDK yet 


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